


Come Clean

by tanglelore



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Dirty Talk, Incest, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Mic drop, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Second Person, Sexual Fantasy, Stridercest - Freeform, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanglelore/pseuds/tanglelore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So you like to think about me when you’re jacking off, huh? That’s cool. That’s pretty hot, in a runty kid kind of way. I’m down with that.” His voice is chill, calm, familiar, but what he’s saying is confusing. “So tell me, you up for another round with me actually in the room?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Clean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gendersquare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gendersquare/gifts).



> For the prompt: "Trans Stridercest please! A universe close to canon would be ideal, but if you have a good AU idea, that could work too. The particular appeal for me with canon is that one or both of them might not realize the other is trans. My personal favorite is that they're both FtM and Dave isn't on hormones yet whereas Dirk is on T and has had top surgery, but any FAAB non-female-identifying Striders is cool with me.  
> I'm fine with nearly any terminology or sexual acts, as long as there isn't explicit feminization (no wearing dresses or talking about having a "pretty cunt" please, but vaginal penetration or saying "clit" instead of "dick" is fine). Bonus points for bondage, sadomasochism, angst, piercings, tattoos, anal play, or some combination of the above.  
> I'd like at least a touch of weirdness or angst about their genetic relation, even if it's one-sided. If you'd like to emphasize it, I'm certainly alright with dubcon or lots of shame afterwards, but having that weirdness play only a secondary role is fine by me too."

Some days looking at your Bro's body just makes your junk twitch. Like, he's objectively incredibly good looking, with a killer bod that you're dying to someday see unclothed, wicked cool style, and unbeatable battling prowess. You've got the hots for him so bad, even though you know it's not a good plan; even though you _know_ that he thinks of you as his obnoxious kid brother and nothing else. Well, that last part was kind of new. To him, anyway.

You'd always always been over 9000% tomboy, and realizing your trans identity hadn't been much of a stretch, more of a mental shift than anything else. You came out to him a while back and he’d just kind of grunted. You’d been afraid to talk to him about it further, but very bravely left a few pamphlets around the house, shit about dysphoria and caring for your trans kid. So far they'd just gathered a layer of dust and Dorito crumbs. He'd been calling you 'little man' since you were six, though, so you guess it was okay. He wasn't kicking you out and he wasn't telling you that you were devilspawn, so you felt pretty lucky. You were kind of hoping you could start your full transition pretty soon. Maybe he'd shock you with, like, T for your birthday or something. Rock right up and hand you a doctor's appointment and a note that said how proud he was of you. Yeah, right. That was Egbert's dad's thing. You'd manage somehow, though.

But Bro. _Bro_. Bro and his stupid fucking sexy everything. He'd never been particularly shy about where he got his money, so porn was kind of old hat for you even as a little kid. You thought for a while maybe you were ace, because you just didn't care about sex. Except then you did. You had your first wet dream about sucking him off when you were thirteen. It shocked you, but waking up with your hand down there and your Spidey underoos kind of soggy was, uh, kind of a literal wake-up call with regard to your interests in that area. It had kind of creeped you out at the time -- not the least because in the dream he'd had puppet hands, not that you had a problem with puppets or anything, they were totally cool -- because holy shit what the actual fuck. But in the three years since, and after coming to better terms with your sexuality, well. Let's just say that your prime masturbatory material was totally him. You tried to keep it semi-clean, at the very least keeping his junk out of yours, but his mouth, goddamn, that cupid's bow with the slightly pouty lower lip that you _wish you could lick_ , yeah, that mouth. Sometimes you think about what it'd be like down there, even with your existing parts. And with your fantasy junk, all bets were off.

So after a strife one day where you'd gotten pretty close to being flat on your back under him and your junk had been like, unnnnfff, you head towards the shower. A)You're totally sweaty and gross, and b)you really, really need some relief. Whacking it in your room when he was around was a kind of dicey proposition, owing to his inability to knock and lack of lock on your door, so this was your usual habit. Besides, not having to actually touch your junk made it a little easier to work with. 

You strip off, turn on the shower and wait for it to warm up, then decide to start with the orgasm. Anytime you finish with it you're left with some sticky in your shorts and that's kind of eww. You pull down the showerhead, set it to pulse mode, get it in place, and begin envisioning Bro on his knees in front of you, tongue rough and hot on you. You think about his face, and how good he'd be and about grabbing his hair and yanking him around a little and yeah, that's good. That's good. You're pretty warm and closing in when you decide to crank this one up a notch, just for shits and giggles. It's been a while since you had a seriously hardcore orgasm, like, maybe a little squirting and everything (there's something satisfying about being able to do that, even with your current pants inventory), so you crank up the showerhead all the way to massage and start in on your favorite fantasy: Bro tying you up and having his way with you. You lean up against the wall and rub yourself fast and hard, thinking about your hands immobilized and maybe something like a spreader bar keeping your thighs wide so he can go to town on your dick. You always close your eyes when you go for this one, because it's so much more satisfying to imagine Bro getting a faceful of jizz when you come. You're really close and maybe moaning his name a little _christ you're gonna come so hard_ when you open your eyes and he's staring at you through the fucking shower door. You hit orgasm with his eyes locked on yours and his name a soft murmur on your lips.

You stand there panting for a moment, trying to reconcile comedown with ohfuckohfuckohfuck he saw _he heard_ , then mechanically reset the shower to normal flow, place it on the rest, turn it off, and sink to the floor of the stall, every part of your body burning with humiliation.

He taps on the glass.

"Hey."

You're tongue-tied and miserable, but you manage a weak, "'Sup." He cocks his head. 

"I heard you saying my name. Figured I should come investigate. That was quite a show you put on there."

You shiver.

"Bro, I'm. Um. Sorry."

"Nah, I liked it."

It's like someone stuffed a firework into your heart and a second one in your junk. BAM. He...liked it? He nods at you.

"Wash up, little man. I know that was the first thing you did; your hair’s still fucking dry.”

There's no way you can disobey him, not now, so you do, and he stands there and just fucking watches you, arms crossed the whole time, silent and unreadable behind his shades. You have never felt so naked and even though this is kind of not too far away from some of your fantasies, it’s still really fucking embarrassing. You try to go fast, but it seems like it takes forever, and of course you get shampoo in your eyes, because why would you not continue to look like an idiot in front of the one person you want to impress more than anyone else. Finally you’re done. Hair washed and slicked back out of your face, scrubbed raw with the ungodly loofah soap-on-a-rope that Bro always buys. You stand there, the water beating down on you and you look back at him. Not a single change of expression.

You try not to sound too sulky. “I’m done.”

“Took you long enough. I was falling asleep out here.” You reach to turn off the water and Bro says, “Quit it. We ain’t done yet. Also, you missed a spot.” And then he takes off his gloves and toes off his beaten sneakers and is sliding open the shower door.

“Uh, Bro. You’re gonna get wet.” You’re so confused, but you can also feel your junk starting to tingle a little just from his proximity. Goddamn it. 

“Not as wet as you, my friend. Not as wet as you.” You swallow and it makes an audible sound. Fucking embarrassing. He feels so big next to you, and having him still wearing his clothes, that’s a little scary, but also intensely hot. 

You start to apologize again and he shakes his head and lifts one finger to his lips. You shut your yap.

“So you like to think about me when you’re jacking off, huh? That’s cool. That’s pretty hot, in a runty kid kind of way. I’m down with that.” His voice is chill, calm, familiar, but what he’s saying is confusing. “So tell me, you up for another round with me actually in the room?”

Your breath runs backward and you squeak. “I, uh, Bro I’m—“

“Quit stammering, kid. All you gotta say is yes or no. You want to have something primo to touch yourself to later, or you wanna pussy out? You called my name, I’m here. The genie is out of the fucking lamp, the cat is out of the goddamn bag. Yes. Or. No.”

He practically hisses that last part in your ear and you just want to die from a horrible cocktail of shame, being turned on, and a little bit of fear. You sort of wish he’d touch you, and you’re also glad he hasn’t.

“Y-yes?” It’s so embarrassing the way your voice pitches up when you’re embarrassed. You hope, desperately, that when you actually start hormones it’ll drop properly. 

“Was that a question? I need an _answer_.”

“T-then, yes. Yeah, I’m cool.” You shrug your shoulders and stand a little straighter. It has the unpleasant side effect of making your chest stand out more and you rehunch. Just a little. Bro doesn’t comment on that.

“Right the fuck on.”

He takes the showerhead down and adjusts it partway to the massage setting. Maybe a little less pressure than you usually use, but you’re not about to correct him. He presses it between your legs, not angled anywhere correctly but whatever, it still feels nice, and oh fuck this is happening. He’s leaning over you and you can smell his aftershave and you bite your lip because ohhh fuck Bro what is going on I can’t even tell but it’s amazing.

“You want me to tell you what I wanna do to the junk you got, or the junk you should have? Not gonna talk about those,” he flicks the air just beside your right nipple, “‘cause I know you don’t like them.”

“Uh.” Your brilliance is exceeded only by your eloquence. Solid effort, A+ and a gold star for you.

“I’ll only repeat myself once. Would you like me to talk dirty to you about all the things I would like to do, and may in the future someday do, to the junk that you currently possess, or the junk that you would prefer reside between your scrawny little legs whilst I assist with you getting off with the head of this shower? Doesn’t matter to me.”

“That you’d...like to do? To me?” You’re squeaking again. He starts to pull the head away and you grab it. “Um, the, the junk I should have. Tell me what you’d do to, to that.”

Your heart is pounding. Your hard-on for Bro was, apparently, totally requited. Or something. You can't even tell, but your dreams are coming true and you really don't want to fuck it up.

"Then let's do this before the water runs cold. Don't want to freeze your junk before you relax enough to come."

He turns the showerhead so the handle is pointing up and says, "Okay. Here's the deal. You're going to close your eyes and hold on to that like you've got the world's weirdest robo-dick going on, slide your hand up and down it or just chill, whatever feels right to you. I'm gonna have a hand down here," he cups the top of the device, "keeping everything in place and I'm going to orchestrate your second coming. Cool?"

"C-cool." You grip the handle white-knuckled, and he snorts.

"If you ever touch an actual dick that way, you or they are gonna be in so much pain. Lighten up, kid. This is supposed to be fun."

He crowds you up against the wall with one shoulder, dry shirt sticking slightly to your damp body, and adjusts the angle of the water a little, slightly up and oh crap, he does it like he knows what he's doing. Nails your clit first try, and it's just hard enough to feel it, but not so hard that it hurts. You close your eyes. He leans down and starts whispering in your ear:

"You probably want a blowjob. Every kid wants a blowjob; it's like training wheels for sex. But let me tell you, there's more to it than putting your lips together and blowing. We're gonna start this kind of slow, then we'll get it rolling."

He presses up just slightly on the showerhead, just enough to shift the flow. You chew on your lip. Then he starts talking, a low, rhythmic stream of words straight into your ear.

"We've been strifing all afternoon and things are getting heated. Sweat is dripping down your face; your sorry ass has been defeated. The jig is up, you're on the floor, your dick can't take it any more. You say: "Fuck, Bro." and I say, "I know." 'Cause I do, and it's all in what you want and how you want it. And the thought of your cock getting stiff from a little strife makes me need to put my mouth on it. We flash downstairs, straight back back home, and I pin you up against the wall, get your belt off, rip your jeans off. I take a minute to cup you, feelin' up you, and you whine like a little bitch about how you want me to quit messing around and just fuckin' do it."

His breath is hot and you kind of wish you could turn and kiss him, but that would make him stop talking and christ it's starting to feel really good. He shifts tempo, barely taking a breath between words. 

"I pull down your boxers and your dick is right there, ready to be sucked. I kiss it, put my lips all over it, then it's go time. I'm opening my mouth and looking up at you as I slide your cock into my mouth, deep as you can go all the way down takin' my time takin' it all, and I suck. Once. Hard. Just to give you a little taste of what's coming to you."

He curls his hand, starts moving the showerhead slowly between your legs. You moan a little, frozen in place. He whispers, soft and slow.

"You've been thinking about my mouth, thinking about how it would look all stretched around your twink-ass cock, and it's better than you imagine. What you haven't thought of is how good it feels with my tongue swirling around the head, tickling that sweet spot. Big bundle of senssssitive nerves there," and he slides the water down your junk in time with his words and you think you might actually die. He brings it back up and he circles the hardest part of the spray right around your joy button. "Going a little faster now, down and up the shaft, giving you a real sweet tongue bath. You get your hands in my hair and start yanking, but that's too much power and I don't share. So I grab your wrists and pin 'em down, 'cause I know you like being shoved around."

He shifts the flow of the water again, wider circles alternating with up and down motions and you sob.

"Spread 'em wider, kid. Your legs."

And you do, giving him a better range of movement. Heat radiates from his body, or maybe you're just cold except for the warmth of the water at your crotch. But he isn't touching you at all, only the showerhead. 

"I'm bobbing up and down on you like there's an apple somewhere I just can't reach, but I gotta get my mouth on it somehow, breathing hard through my nose. Now, I'm starting to get a little interested myself, thinking about maybe getting a little action pretty soon, but I wanna make you come first. Doesn't mean I can't start the prep, though. I let go your hands and put my hand down under and give your balls a gentle touch, not too rough, but enough so you can feel it. But what I'm aiming for, what I really want to get my hands on, is that tight little pucker."

A whimper rises in your throat, and you squinch your eyes shut. You're pretty sure Bro is psychic, can read your mind, and also really fucking hates you because he took this long to do anything about it.

"I always got a packet of lube in my pocket for just in cases, so I pull it out and get my hand wet. I'm a multitasker though, so my mouth keeps going, tasting the precum you got flowing. My fingers are warm and so's the lube and one slips right in, smooth and clean. I aim for your happy spot and you almost scream."

He somehow manages to turn up the spray pressure one-handed and with the sudden increase in intensity, you almost do. You bite it back though you're definitely having a hard time not panting.

"You're so good, you say you can take two, so that's where we're going and that's what I do, slamming you up, taking you down. Soon you're heading off on a trip towards orgasm town. Then I stop."

And he does, turning the showerhead away from your crotch. And you open your eyes and look up at him and stare and there might be tears and he's so close and you want and you want and raise your hands like you want to touch him, and he leans away from you. So you put them against the tile like he's holding you there (which in your imagination he totally is, holding you down and making you do things) and then he puts it back and starts moving faster than he was and you're pressing yourself against the wall and your hands are back on the handle and he's talking again and everything is fine. You close your eyes again.

"But I can't quit now, you're almost there. I wanna see your face though, so I take my mouth off your dick and start using my hand. You tell me what you want."

He pauses, but doesn't stop moving. Prompted, you whisper, "I wanna come all over your face."

"I'm jacking you faster and you're back on the high road. I’m feeling kind, so no more edging. You can feel your balls getting tight and you're clenching so hard around my fingers and my hands feel so good on your cock and I keep hitting that spot over and over and then you’re done. You start coming, and I let you give me a hot white facial."

And he hits you exactly right, slamming your clit with the water on high pressure, wiggling it back and forth exactly in the way you like and you do come, every muscle in your body tightening up and it's so much harder because it's the second time. You white out a little, and you can hear yourself letting out this dumbass reedy little moan. He keeps going, and you come again. And again. And again. Finally, you fold over, almost crying with how good it feels and how completely gone you are. He stands up.

"And that, son, is how it's done. Peace."

He lets go of the showerhead and it drops to the floor, your fingers too busy trembling to keep a grip. He leans past you and turns off the water.

Overwhelmed, you go to try to kiss him. He dodges. You grab at his crotch, wanting to somehow return the favor and he's not even _hard_. HOW? He pulls your fingers away with a snort.

"Takes a little outside assistance to give me an outside stiffie, little man. Seems you're not the first Strider to have differences of opinion with god and biology."

You sit down before you fall. He steps out of the shower and dries off his hands, then tosses the towel at you. It lands on your head. Dazed, you just kind of stay put as he fusses with his hair and glasses.

"Your first packer's in the mail; should be here by your birthday. Dinner's at seven, and if you're late, I've got a katana with your name on it."

Your jaw drops and he picks up his sneakers and absconds. In fifteen minutes your world has turned upside down. You're never going to think about his hour-long showers the same way again.

But hey, at least you're clean.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt, and a definite gift to that person! It's also dedicated to being in a fandom that is open and encouraging about trans characters and people and a zillion headcanons. Thank you so much, guys and girls and non/a/gender/queer people. I'm grateful all the time. I hope at least a few of you like it. ^_^
> 
> Thanks to Laylah for the beta. <3 <3 <3


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